In the depth of the night, a concerto commenced,
With drums of thunder and a melody of rain.
Wind flutes played loud sniveling notes,
Carrying pulsating tunes in blustery tones.
Streaks of lightening, with their baton of light,
Led the blasting orchestra with dynamic might.
Trees swayed wildly, leaves scattered with force,
Rain soaked the paths, shattering dense shadows.
As dawn tiptoed, with the sun’s gentle caress,
Melodic whistles, cheeps and croaks took the stage.
Blue bonnets danced, greeting butterflies and bees,
Jays and cardinals capered under the radiant trees.
Hummingbirds frolicked around the buds of paintbrush,
Grackles called out in an enthusiastic rush.
Scissor-tailed flycatchers hovered, tails unfurled,
Charmed their mates with their squeaks and chirrs.
Pinkladies and Firewheels in their spectacular array,
Welcomed the day, luring pollinators their way.
The storm disappeared, giving way to a tranquil zephyr,
Joyfulness prevailed, in awe of Mother Earth’s endeavor.
whimpering sniveling pout
mopey face bo ohwe-ohwe whine
scratching his head mopey face
I was here with me
Behind the mask made of many ears
Calla lilies earnestly listen
Their canals thirst for morning’s song
For the manic moon stared upon us
with hollow light transfixed
Behind the mask of valley’d green
palms and snow clad ears
was the sound of a weeping strong
A poor poor devil sobbed
a wraith’s rain makes sordid soil rich
Drowning under mud, drowning in life
crimson portrait all contorted
Blood seeped from his horns
breathing in the cloudless day
How does a face so hollow
brim with dismay?
How can a flower pot host be so morbid?
Sniveling at the sight of the sun,
lip quivering
throat like a Gordian knot
What a Hell it must be
to be a He whom savors Sodom
While being exposed
to a season’s birth
present for every blossom’s budding.
I had a love, I swear I did;
I know it must be true,
Because my soul still bears the mark,
The imprint of her hand.
In desperation, before the mirror, wide I rip my shirt,
And search, with manic eyes, the reflection bared therein.
Surely there must be a trace, a mark, a sign,
An inscription, a signature, anything at all
Upon the space above my heart.
Maddened, I scan the breast endlessly.
Nothing.
I had a love, I swear I did;
I know it must be true,
We shared our selves, our life, our love,
One body, mind and spirit.
I know that she was mine, I know;
She told me it was so.
But here I am, where she is not,
Mumbling like a crazed and sorry fool;
And sooth, I know that she is better off without me,
So tell the truth now,
That at least you owe yourself;
At least that motley sum;
Look in the mirror once again, no flinching, hold it steady;
A prize I ain’t.
So at least pretend to be a man,
You sniveling little bastard.
What would I want to say,
If I could rant today?
Don't waste your time, okay!
No hard feelings, my way,
No need to be dramatic,
Whinging is pathetic,
Sniveling I ignore, my way,
Ain't misbehaving, anyway,
Don't snivel about chicks.
Off buns, other birds exist!
Saucy Sally, sits solemnly on said sidewalk,
Stifling sniffles, sees sympathetic staring,
Some snidely shuffling slowly sideways, so
She surreptitiously swallows her sadness.
Studly Sam, strolling six shaggy sheepdogs,
Soon seizes on saucy Sally’s situation, and
Saunters steadily, still standing; swiftly,
Suggests she stifle her sniveling sadness.
Suddenly, she’s sharing six shaggy sheepdogs,
Silently, Sam says, sweet saucy Sally stay.
Written August 18, 2022
FIRST PLACE WINNER
Submitted to "Alliteration - Old or New" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
August 30, 2022
Million miles away,
Embracing the light of grey,
They may have heard you sniveling,
This sweet misery that we're nibbling,
The rush you're trying to adore,
May bring you back to the shore,
Bend down by constant flagging,
No string to hold for surviving,
But once you sit to realize,
Your blood will turn all ice,
As the wind may trigger you to revive,
"Have you ever been fully alive?"
This chasing and haste was a lie,
We'll end up from where we've arrived,
When you'll leave the world of crime,
You'll be the one beyond time.
Million miles away,
Embracing the light of grey,
They may have heard you sniveling,
This sweet misery that we're nibbling,
The rush you're trying to adore,
May bring you back to the shore,
Bend down by constant flagging,
No string to hold for surviving,
But once you sit to realize,
Your blood will turn all ice,
As the wind may trigger you to revive,
"Have you ever been fully alive?"
This chasing and haste was a lie,
We'll end up from where we've arrived,
When you'll leave the world of crime,
You'll be the one beyond time.
… is a drunkard
Swilling vintage regret,
Tears falling for undared dreams,
Anger spewing over unrequited love.
… is endless replays of yesterdays
With circular insightful wisdom
As likely to reverse life’s ills
As scrubbing dirt off hills.
… is stolen joy in the gloom
Of memory’s moldy greenhouse
Where fancied success blooms, hiding
Mocking hyenas and nightmare roaches.
… is a pustulated soul
Hunkering in a mental bunker
Sniveling nose dripping a green past,
Dreaming victory will roar as thunder.
… is Salvador Dali droop
From the fringes of reality
Or a joy until truth
Flushes it to a cesspool.
As one keeps traveling,
One keeps marveling;
Little cause to be sniveling,
Still less to be driveling
For the stupendous much one had seen;
Not anymore The Horn “Unequivocal Green.”
Yes, for having met with a lot,
For the most part encountering the hot,
Naturally mocking what one had got.
A richness that from the eyes draws mist,
Childish stuff ones previous treasured list
And, I swear, jotters of some journalist.
Such traveler, though, keeps ageing,
His system wordlessly raging,
As it continues to seem a Methuselah’s
Or like A Drunk’s often in cellars.
Who could escape seeming weather-beaten
And the unluckier traveler rust-eaten?
Seek the joyful moments for grander living,
While keeping your head held firmly high
For life is frequently cruel and unforgiving.
We are given few opportunities for reliving,
To change our life’s course before we die
Seek the joyful moments for grander living.
Always eager to practice sincere forgiving,
Giving no credence to any monstrous lie
For life is frequently cruel and unforgiving.
Avoid at all costs resorting to pitiful sniveling
Which can begin with a self-indulgent sigh,
Seek the joyful moments for grander living.
Every day, try to find time for thanksgiving
Try to see all things with a discerning eye,
For life is frequently cruel and unforgiving.
Early in life try to discover the joy of giving
And add it to the creed you live your life by,
Seek the joyful moments for grander living
For life is frequently cruel and unforgiving.
written October 15, 2021
laugh
comical, hysteric
guffawing, chuckling, snickering
cheerfulness, amusement, squeal, caterwaul,
grieving, whimpering, sniveling,
upset, lachrymose,
cry
Date created: 06/13/2021
Poor wife, so very ill and oh, so congested.
But then, her husband got drunk and was arrested.
Sniveling, into the cold rain she hurried.
To bail hubby out of jail, she was a tad worried.
There he sat, smirking, behind bars.
Arrested for driving and hitting three cars.
The bail was paid, they stood soaking wet, he was pale.
In disgust, she left him, the drunk on the steps of the jail.
He...only could think of a pint of hearty ale.
So, ends, my friends, this sorry tale!
3/12/2021
~3~
Note, I found no category for drinking or alcoholism and on my device,
cabbot enter one...Apologies...Pangie
The Ogre took a body blow,
tumbling to the ground.
He enlisted the forces of government,
the regime he always labeled “deep state.”
Blubbering, he sat there, enlisting Department of Justice lawyers
to deny he was ever hit,
to conceal that he ever fell.
The fight was rigged because he lost.
The punches were illegal and fraudulent.
This became the mantra infecting social discourse.
This emerged as the slogan to incite
his Stockholm syndrome believers.
Take the bull by the horns,
Or the bull will take you.
Stand up and holler,
A house prisoner is not you!
There is no jailer at your front
door.
Though terms tossed about,
makes you think this is truth
to the core!
Want to change things does require
courage and action.
So stop our endless sniveling to gain
satisfaction.
Warriors win wars in battles,
not so easily fought.
Having been in so many,wins
beat losses, so I have been
wonderfully taught.
Today is your day, the trumpet
for braveness calls.
Get outdoors in God's creation,
His world has no guards nor fear
laden walls.
May 8, 2020
10am PST
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